The Princess
by Jilladelphiafanfics
Summary: Being the daughter of Illea, life should be easy for a princess. But I should have known better.
1. Prologue

**_PROLOGUE_**

_I don't know when my story ended._  
_But I know where it began._  
_One night. Just one night set the country on fire._


	2. Chapter 1

_**Angeles, Illea **_

My hair glowed like a dazzling fire when I curled it into ringlets. It cascaded down my head, past my shoulders. It was the same shade of fiery red as my mother's. I glared into my reflection; every curve, every imperfection, everything.

"Miss Dakota?" Mom's personal maid, Claire, knocked on my door softly. She wore a pleated dress the same color as the sky. Claire's messy blond hair was held up in a ponytail.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Your family requests you for the Illea report, immediately." Claire stated.

"WHAT? RIGHT NOW? I thought I had another hour!" I was still in my embarrassing pajama shorts and tank top. Panicked, I rushed into my grandisoe closet that had enough stuff to open a boutique. I gazed at everything and wondered how do I pull this off?

Three point twenty-five minutes later, my maids accompanied me for preparations. I had the dress - a pretty one really, with the hem resting on my knees and the deep shade of obsidian reminded me of the sky - but I needed the shoes and makeup and accessories and ugh I hated being a princess. But being royal meant managing a crisis, and I intend to.

I slipped on a nude colored heels - how in the HELL do people walk in these - and stumbled as the maids did my makeup on my way out the door. Luckily, my hair was already presentable. I rushed the maids and they eventually finished.

"Thanks Isla, Steph, and Belle!" I shouted as I ran off towards the set of the Illea report.

* * *

"Welcome, Illea, to another report with Gavril!" I could hear Gavril's echo as I dashed towards the sound. I could barely see Mom, Dad, and Adam sitting in velvet seats out there.

"So today in the news - "

"Heyyyy..." My voice trailed off as every eye in Illea was placed upon me.

"Dakota, you're late." Dad's voice was strained, like he was going to release a bolt of fury any minute now.

"I know. I overslept." I coughed out. I had stage fright, so this was a living hell when the moment was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

"You should be more careful, dear." Dad retorted. Mom gave him a glare at the word 'dear'.

"Anyway, ILLEA WE HAVE ASTONISHING NEWS TO REPORT!" Gavril was filled of so much enthusiasm I think he'll explode. I wonder what he's so eager about anyway.

"Miss Queen, would you do the honors?" Gavril's voice is soft and delicate, like a china glass.

"Oh of course," Mom hesitates before standing up to speak. Her posture is superb, her composure is excellent. "With the caste system at its weakest point, we, as of the royal court, plan to eradicate the system completely."

My mouth is hanging open in incredulousness. How could they do such a thing?!

"Mom!" I accidentally shout out. My impulse skills are at an all time low and Adam - my younger brother - is perfectly perfect in his seat. He doesn't seem to care at all about this. Well, we are six years apart anyway.

"Yes, Miss Dakota? Do you have any commentary?" The place went silent, eerily silent.

"Just - uh - I bid good luck to those experiencing these difficulties so we can - uh - improve mundane life - um yeah." I gulped. That sounded horrible.

"How will we manage this, Mr. Schreave?" Gavril asks curiously.

"Well, the government will start at eight. Then go up until four. Any above can handle themselves. By the time the caste system fully deteriorates, everyone in the country of Illea should go to sleep every night, peacefully." When Dad finished, the crowd applauded. They were cheering and celebrating but I wasn't buying it. None.

When the Report finished, I dashed up to Mom and Dad before a bunch of government officials could try to snatch them up.

"What. The. Heck?! The caste system? Really?" I demanded. I didn't realize that I actually cared.

"Dakota, why are you acting so defiant? We've been planning this before you were born. We just waited to have the entire plan ready." Mom spoke like she was still in front of a camera. "She's so impulsive." I heard Mom murmured something.

"She gets it from you." Dad mumbled.

"Shut up!" Mom defended herself. "She may look like me, but I wasn't like that."

"Sure," Dad chuckled.

"Where are my parents? What are these aliens?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Nevermind." Mom turned to me. A group of Senate demanded their presence at a royal meeting, but I could tell she had more to say. "Before I go, Dakota, I want to talk later." Mom kept trying to shake off one of the council men.

"About what?" I cocked my head to the side in curiosity.

"You." Mom paused. "We need to discuss your Selection."


	3. Chapter 2

_**Angeles, Illea **_

"Mom!" I shouted, but it was no use. "We don't need to! I won't have a Selection!" I suggested.

"Preposterous, you're having one." Mom was being stubborn and insistent right now.

"I'm the first Schreave girl in generations! No one here knows how a girl version works!"

"I'm sure it is similar to your father's." Mom smirked. "And here's something for you." She handed me yellow manila envelopes filled with - what? "The Selection entries." Mom reported. "And since it's an attractive contender this year, I'm sure you'll have many boys to choose from."

I groaned and then perked up a grin. "Really? I can choose?"

"Of course. But I want to choose a few. We need thirty-five and since no girls have been a princess in generations we'll need to be one hundred percent sure that this will work."

"Oh definitely." My smile was as large as the sun. "Now I'm interested in this." I turn on my heels to leave, but I stop myself. "But, do you have any tips for me?"

Mom hesitated. "Only one can win."

* * *

Devon Adams, Joseph Steinfeld, Alexander Clemente, Ryan Travis, Wyatt Jones. . . . .all these names fluttered inside my brain. How could I possibly choose only thirty-five? How did the past generations manage this all these years? I sighed and collapsed onto the settee in the Royal Parlor. The stacks of Selection forms created a mini city of paper inside the den. I I pulled one out, this whole paper city would fall.

"Need any help?" A voice echoed from across the room. I turned my gaze towards the boy in the doorframe. He was a busboy of some kind, with his apron and washcloth he was holding in his hands.

"Uh - I'm sorry - wait - stop!" My words were a choppy hurricane as I spoke. Why was I so nervous in front of him? My cheeks were bright red and I felt flushed, he was attractive but certainly not my type.

"I'm River." He introduced himself. I could read on his face that River realized who exactly he was talking to, because he knelt down to bow. "Your Majesty,"

"It's fine, we're alone. I don't need formal introductions." I laughed, waving off his rigid figure.

"What's with the piles of paper?" He gestured towards my little city.

"Selection entries," I paused, observing the stacks. "every one."

"Wow, that's a lot." His voice sounded almost - intrigued.

"Yeah, so how do I choose thirty-five?" I sighed.

"Let me help." River suggested. I didn't disagree when he dove into the paper city immediately. Trudging behind him, I laughed and began to replicate the way he observed each entry. Leo Kravitz. . .Derek Blasko. . .Jason Sullivan. . . .ugh they're just soooo many.

"Here, this one is famous." River handed me a pristinely perfect form. On there was a name that seemed oddly familiar: Grant Winchester.

"He's a two." I whispered. Twos were notoriously famous figures in Illea. The country adores their Twos, they all seem shady to me, but that's just me I guess. "Grant. He's stunningly attractive and a Two. His parents are Lisbeth Winchester, the actress, and Cole Winchester, the director. They live in Paloma."

"Put him in, he'll be great publicity." River placed his file in 'approved' pile.

Grant was the first one.

"Ugh," I groaned. ""How many more?"

"Thirty-four." River reported.

I sighed and grabbed a bunch of files. I read each name, skimming their profiles and pictures. I wasn't going to be that girl that chose boys primarily on their appearance.

"Tyler Evans. . . .Austin Castellano. . . .Markus Jensen. . . ." My voice trailed off. "Put them in."

"You sure?" River raised an eyebrow.

"It's been five hours and I'm functioning only because of caffeinated coffee. . . .yes." I shrugged.

"Okay, thirty-five boys for the Selection." River grinned and patted the pile of papers. My smile reached my eyes, we were done! I thought I never would see the daylight again. But River's hand slipped and all the forms slid out and flew around us like paper snow. I was laughing yet crying at the same time.

"Damn you, River!" I chuckled, suppressing a cry.

* * *

"Hello Illea!" Gavril's voice boomed. He was a boisterous one, that Gavril. He's been reporting for the Illea Report since he was, like, eighteen. Gavril reported for my great grandparents I can't begin to imagine how old is he is. "Welcome to the Report you've been waiting seventeen years for!"

"Sixteen," I corrected. I was proud of myself but Mom and Dad gave me a reprimanding look.

"Ah yes, my mistakes." Gavril apologized. "So anyway," Gavril sure knows how to direct attention away from himself. "THE SELECTION OF A LEGEND! It's been - what - four or five generations since a girl was a child of the Scheaves. We've been anticipating this for years."

"Let's begin then, Gavril." Dad looked irritated how much Gavril was stalling from the Selectioners.

"Right, yes, Your Majesty. So, the boys this year are: David Rachelson. . .Victor Kosco. . .Elliot Finley. . .Jason Sullivan. . .Jeffrey Huggins. . ." I could practically see the families jumping up and toasting to their sons. But I could see those disappointed to not be chosen. I replaced the frown on my face and turned it to a grin, a fake one but I wasn't that excited. River chose half of those anyway. I saw so many I can't remember a single name.

". . .Benny Turner. . .Devon Adams. . .Grant Winchester?" Gavril looked genuinely astonished to see his name. "Well folks, that's the thirty-five boys! Congrats to our Selectioners! We will see you boys tomorrow! Goodnight Illea!" Gavril waved bye and the cameras stopped filming. I slouched in my seat after an eternity of impeccable posture.

"Why so sad dear?" Dad sighed. Mom gave him a glare at 'dear'. "You have thirty-five great boys to choose from."

"Yeah, I guess." I pursed my lips and excused myself from the room.

I ran and ran until I went far into a room I didn't think existed. But even in this foreign room, I recognized a face I'd remember for the rest of my life: River.

"River!" I called. My voice echoed in the marble corridor. He gave a glance and trudged over.

"Hey, Dakota." He held his hand in his brown hair. River looked incredibly nervous but I found it endearing. "Why are you so sad? Every one in Illea saw the Report."

"So many people, so many boys. Many of them are here for their families. My mom was. She didn't even join the Selection to marry the prince!"

"That's what is worrying you?" River asked dubiously.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "It's a lot of pressure. But can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah Dakota, anything." River's grin sent a bolt of happiness down my spine.

"I want you to be my Royal Selection Advisor. You can help me choose who to leave - and who stays - and - " Before I could finish my rambling on, River held his hand on my mouth to hush me.

"Of course Dakota." He leaned as to kissed me, and I wanted it. I did. I mentally slapped myself for wanting him to. But as he entered my proximity, I hesitated, then I widened my eyes and rushed out.

"Uh - thanks River! - See you tomorrow - we can - uh - decide who leaves first - thanks - I just - BYE - "

Phew, that was close one.


	4. Chapter 3

_Angeles, Illea_

My palms were sweating as I stood inside the luxurious foyer of the palace. I was nervous, terrified even, for the Selection. How would I handle this? There'll will be thirty-five boys and my mom went through the same thing, she had to watch the disappointment and arguments over the crown. Plus, I was seventeen. Why was I so concerned about marriage right now?

It didn't matter though, I still held my hands together as boys stepped inside, making their grand entrances. My immediate thoughts were how attractive the occasion boy was, but nothing else. When I chose these contenders wit River, they were just names on paper and a number assigned to them as a caste. Nothing else. Let's see if there's a person underneath those numbers.

The boy I vaguely remember as Grant Winchester, a Two of class and sophistication, materialized and I heard cheers erupting from the crowds. Glaring in his direction, I decided that I wanted to see what he really is behind that pretty-rich boy exterior.

Let the Selection begin.

* * *

ILLEA INTERVIEWS - Angeles, Illea

**BOY #1: Devon Adams **  
Me: Are you prepared?  
Devon: I guess so.  
River: You don't sound so sure, Dakota, I think he's -  
Me: Calm down, River, God. . .so Devon. . .um, *glances at clipboard containing appropriate questions* why did you decide to enter the Selection?  
Devon: Well, I'm a Four. My parents are farmers and I just don't fit in. I can't stand barns and farms ya feel me? I don't want to live there anymore just, ugh no. . .  
River: Get out.  
Me: Dammit River! Ugh, sorry, this is my first interview and I didn't practice I figured I could wing it and I'm making run-on sentences sorry.  
Devon: Yeah, you may be cute but you're way too awkward for me.  
Me: Get out.  
River: I told you.  
Devon: *Stands up and rolls his eyes*

some time later. . . .

* * *

**BOY #7: Austin Castellano **

Me: So, Austin *I mastered the art of composure and lost my awkwardness hell yeah*  
River: I don't like him already he's wearing a fedora  
Austin: So?. . .questions?  
Me: What caste are you from? And Province?  
Austin: I'm a three from Kent.  
Dakota: Isn't there a feuding war there?  
Austin: Yeah, some people are evacuating but it's not even that bad.  
River: Not sure how I feel about you. . .  
Dakota: Stay out of this. *turns to Austin* So, any notes about the war?  
River: Maybe he knows nothing.  
Dakota: SHH he can speak for himself.  
Austin: It's nothing, seriously.  
Dakota: Are all boys this dense?  
River: Well I think he can take his nothing and shove it up his -  
Dakota: HEY NO profanity in the interview room!  
Austin: Are sure this is even an interview? Like asking me hobbies and interests? All I got was a pretty princess and some kind of -  
River: I'm done, Dakota, get him out.  
Dakota: Hey, there's still ten seconds before the initial five minutes of interview is up. . .hey look there ya go get out.

**BOY #16: Leonardo Kravitz **  
Dakota: Caste? *tries to contain composure over the stunningly attractive boy*  
Leo: Five.  
Dakota: Oh like my mom - uh - the queen majesty highness thing wait what.  
River: She's obviously torn by your looks. . .so. . .criminal record?  
Leo: I don't have any kind of -  
River: We can play good cop bad cop but I can't guarantee I'll be good cop.  
Dakota: Anywayyyyyy. . .you're pretty. . .*damn Dakota you're as deep as a bird bath*  
River: I'll try normal, average, questions. . .soooo hobbies?  
Leo: I'm named for Leonardo da Vinci.  
River: Was he the navigator or cardiologist?  
Dakota: *facepalm* Neither, River, don't you ever study your history?  
River: No, I had to learn chores, I'm a seven remember?  
Leo: Okay so this is getting nowhere.  
Dakota: He's like that in every interview. I have no idea why.  
River: Well screw you both. . .  
Leo: *snickers*  
Dakota: What's so funny?  
River: Ohhhhh nothing.  
Dakota: We've been in here for three minutes and all I know is your caste, name is Leonardo, and some art.  
Leo: Basically. Fives are average. I have four other siblings; one is Melody, one is Georgia, one is Emmy, and my brother is Michael.  
Dakota: Like Michelangelo?  
Leo: Yup.  
Dakota: My aunt May is an artist, so is my other uncle Gerad. . .  
Leo: Time's up.  
Dakota: Oh yeah the timer. Good time talking bye Leonardo!  
Leo: Please don't call me by my first name.

**BOY #18: Nathan Matthews**  
Nathan: Hello, I'm - uh - Nathan - but uh you can call me. . .Nate.  
River: *opens mouth* *I place my hand on top to stop him*  
Dakota: When you speak it lowers the IQ of the entire room, River.  
River: Mhmm rgh htt mmg  
Dakota: yeah yeah, so Nate, what's you caste? Your home province? What do you do as a part of your caste? Siblings? Age?  
Nate: *hesitates* Um, Three. Carolina. I'm going into the biology field. Only child. I'm eighteen.  
River: He's older than you.  
Dakota: Really now? Ugh, Nate you sound fascinating. It's been half a minute but what else?  
Nate: I'm pretty uninteresting.  
River: Yeah you are -  
Dakota; Riverrrr - Nate you're great. Trust me.  
River: When is this over I want lunch.  
Dakota: Calm down you'll get lunch.  
Nate: Do you have anymore questions?  
Dakota: *glances at clipboard full of orthodox questions* How about. . .what inspired you to join the Selection?  
Nate: Well. . .my father lost his job as an English professor and my mother decided why not? She was quite optimistic for her own good but there she was so here I am.  
Dakota: Fascinating. . . plans if you king?  
Nate: The caste system stays. It contains order and serenity.  
Dakota: I guess it does.  
River: Dakota are you fuc -  
Dakota: *covers his mouth again* No profanity, River.  
River: mhmmm ghbm dmn  
Dakota: Nevermind him. . .bye Nate!  
Nate: Forgot there was a time, thank you for your time, your majesty.  
Dakota: Call me Dakota, I hate formal behavior.

**BOY #31: Grant Winchester **  
Dakota: Oh look, it's Grant - WAKE UP RIVER!  
River: WHat the fuc -  
Dakota: Again with the swearing, God River.  
Grant: I see you have your hands full should I come back another time -  
Dakota: NO! I mean, no, Winchester. I am free. Just let us begin. *I try to examine Grant in a subtle fashion*  
Grant: So, like what you see? *such cocky grinning*  
River: You can take your pretty boy and shove it -  
Dakota: Do I need a frying pan I WILL knock you out.  
Grant: And I'll help too.  
Dakota: I'm stalling again, aren't I?. . .Grant. I know you're mother, is a supermodel and beauty extraordinaire; while you're father is a notorious politician from Clermont. Am I correct?  
Grant: Yes.  
Dakota: You're a Two, born in Clermont, and you're an only child. You are a model *I glance at his incredible features damn*, and you are imminent to having an acting career?  
Grant: I think you know more about me than I do of myself.  
Dakota: When you're the heiress, you get things.  
Grant: Damn straight, which is why I want the crown.  
Dakota: Why did you join the Selection?  
Grant: We Winchesters know power and fame. Why not pervade our fame throughout the rest of Illea?  
Dakota: Very well then. Um, hobbies?  
Grant: I don't think I should tell you.  
Dakota: *I'm failing this composure thing help* and why. . . .not?  
Grant: It doesn't matter really. . .  
Grant: Would you consider going on a date with me? Tomorrow, or the day after.  
Dakota: I - uh - Grant - I'm not - maybe - I have no - what?  
Grant: I take it you're not experienced with boys?  
Dakota: Yes because teenage hormonal boys are just crawling around the palace. . .  
Grant: They are now.  
Dakota: You're infuriating.  
Grant: You're attractive.  
Dakota: Playing this game aren't we?  
Grant: It's flirting dear, learn it.  
Dakota: Please, I know everything I need to know about you and you're shallow wooing laws.  
Grant: Shallow wooing laws?  
Dakota: Yes. You think you can get every girl but you only want the girl you can't have, me.  
Grant: Who's cocky now, sweetheart?  
Dakota: I thought I was the only princess.  
River: God you two are about to trigger my gagging reflexes shut the hell up -  
Dakota: You're done River.  
River: No! We have like three or four more left and you've been bickering with Grant for twenty minutes when each interview is pertained as five minutes long. . .  
Dakota: *oh god I forgot that was this boy really that intriguing?*  
Dakota: I'll figure you out, pretty boy.  
Grant: I'd like to see you try.


	5. Chapter 4

Angeles, Illea

"Well don't you look snazzy," Grant smirked as I walked into the parlor. He stood in a full-on tux, with those ridiculously huge black shoes I've always seen Dad wear to make Mom and I laugh. I guess Grant was trying to flaunt his wealth around. Perks of being a Two, huh.

"Same goes for yourself." I replied. Glancing down to check my outfit, my maid Cleo had chosen this mint colored sparkly dress that reached just below my knees. Pretty, but discreet. I didn't expect too much from this date. Actually, I didn't know what to expect. I heard that Grant Winchester is quite the playboy in Clermont.

"Why thank you. Now, shall we get this started?"

Did he really just say shall? Is this the 19th century?

Once we were seated at this little table decorated with pearls and silky tablecloth, Grant grabbed the Champagne from underneath the table.

"Whoa, I'm underage." I raised my eyebrow.

"As I." Was all Grant said in reply.

"You know, I was obliged to accept this date, right?" I blurted out.

"I know." He murmured, as if I could hear traces of a sigh in there.

The atmosphere turned to a quiet aura as the date continued on; only asking one another if we wanted more tea or those scone pastries I absolutely love, I got fairly bored by the first hour passing.

"So, do you know anything about the war in the provinces?" Grant eventually said. I sat there in my chair, stunned. I figured that he as some pretty boy who had no faint interest in politics.

"Yes, but next to nothing. It's some huge secret here in the palace. We have this invisible barrier between me and the people. I'm prohibited from knowing political knowledge at all. I can't understand why though." I rolled my eyes.

"The princess must believe that ignorance is bliss." He held this solid expression.

"If I'm queen, I can't be uninformed from the public."

"I understand completely." Grant genuinely nodded, breathing in all my words.

"What do you mean?" I asked, curiously. What could Mr. Perfect be possibly talking about?

"When my mother's movie received all but positive ratings and reviews, as well as my father's move he directed, well, my family had to struggle for a few months until we could hop back on our feet. It took a while, but we got plenty of support. . .and hatred, obviously. Since I joked at for being a pretty little rich boy who couldn't handle himself."

For a moment, I sat there, completely stunned. What could I possibly say to that?

"Growing up as the privileged has its perks and its disadvantages, I guess." I sighed. A part of me wanted to believe that Grant was some perfect pretty boy who got anything he wanted. But - I was a princess - I couldn't throw stones when I lived in this glass palace.

"Yes."

I spun the thin, purplish-red wine in my skinny glass. "You know how you asked about the country and its imminent war?" I whispered.

"Yeah, why?" Grant's voice was lowered as well as mine.

"What do you know?" I asked.

"I can't tell you, except that it's escalating. . .really fast, it won't be any longer." Grant said vaguely.

"What? Why don't my parents know anything?"

"They're ignorant of it too."

"My parents have been planning on eliminating the castes for the last twenty years. . .why is everyone against that? Gregory Illea screwed over everyone by planting the caste system, and he only created the Selection to distract everyone from the new government that people rebelled and warred over!" I blurted out. Now, I was out of my chair, pacing around in circles.

"You really think that? About Gregory, I mean?" Grant abruptly paused. "The system keeps order, we can all agree on that, right?"

"No," I hesitated. "It doesn't. Illea used to have these rebels that inhabited the area - the Northerners and the Southerners. The constantly invaded the palace, pillaged our things, and killed innocent. I can't and I won't have that as I reign." I stood up tall, taking in every word I said. I didn't know where the words came from, but they weren't mine. Those words didn't belong to a peerless princess, they belonged to a queen.

"Well guess what," Grant waited for me to physically calm down. I had ignited inside and I wasn't going to calm down now. "the caste system keeps and maintains peace and harmony. It has for centuries. It should stay that way. My mother showed me how she grew up in a factory, as a Four, and she still has every scar and mark from her misery. She married well, my dad was a born two, and grew the courage to follow her dream as an actress. But she always looked up to her idol, Celeste Newsome." Grant's words wavered through the air.

You think you can win me over by telling me these sob stories?" I clenched my fists together. What a joke, I thought, I could actually grow to like this boy! But no, he believes that you can win the public over with a few sob stories that may or may not be true! Oh hell no.

"I'm done with you! Maybe our paths will cross once again, Grant Winchester, but I sure as hell hope not." I snatched my windbreaker coat from my chair, and dashed out, letting the door slam behind me.

~

The forest was bitterly cold, with the country on the brink of autumn, but I didn't care one bit. My insides were burning hot with embers of anger from my date with Mr. Winchester. It wasn't worth it at all, the entire date was concocted just to announce to the public that the peerless Dakota Schreave was on a date with the notorious Selection contender, Grant Winchester of Clermont.

I'd continue ranting, but I've said all that I've needed to say, and me rambling on would just bore you.

As I trekked the ominous woods outside the palace, I looked at the castle from afar. It was quite spectacular actually, the way it lit up like a Christmas tree in the sky. Lucky for me, Mom had told me stories about Christmas, and now it was an annual holiday celebrated in the palace. We dress up in golds, reds, and greens while drinking cocoa and dancing to music played by Fives.

But I didn't have a moment to dwell on the palace holidays because a figure crept out of the shadows. At first I couldn't distinguish the figure, but I could eventually tell it was a girl, about my age, approximately fifteen I'm assuming.

"Who are you?. . ." I whispered, but I kept a straight face. I have no idea what or who they want so I should just run back to the palace.

"I'm no one," she said, her words echoing through the dense forest. "but trust me, Miss Dakota, there is a war coming, and it'll be all but pleasant." Her voice, the way she said it, sent a chill down my spine.

"Why should I believe you?"

"You'll be a big piece in the war, sweetie." She glanced in my direction. I could hear the birds chirping, their consistent sound cooing through the woods inside.

"But why?" I asked, peering over the bushes to try to find the enigmatic person with that voice.

"You'll know soon, Dakota."

I heard the distant rustle of recently fallen leaves and the birds still chirping. How could she leave me full of questions? She's probably full of bullshit, anyway.

But throughout our entire mysterious conversation, only one line echoed in my brain, repeating over and over again.

_You'll be a big piece in the war, sweetie. _


End file.
